(_d_) " ... I am afraid I'm not in a position to send you very detailed
letters about my life at present, but I can tell you that I am quite all
right and comfortable, and that I wish every English prisoner were the
same. Our new Commandant is very humane--strict, but just. You can tell
everybody who thinks differently that I shall always be glad to prove
that he is wrong...."

(_e_) " ... I suppose you are all thinking that we are having a very bad
time here as prisoners. It's true we have to do without a good many
things, but that after all one must get accustomed to. The English are
really good people, which I never would have believed before I was taken
prisoner. They try all they can to make our lot easier for us, and you
know there are a great many of us now. So don't be distressed
for us...."

X is passed, a large and prosperous town, with mills in a hollow. We
climb the hill beyond it, and are off on a long and gradual descent to
Amiens. This Picard country presents everywhere the same general
features of rolling downland, thriving villages, old churches,
comfortable country houses, straight roads, and well-kept woods. The
battlefields of the Somme were once a continuation of it! But on this
March day the uplands are wind-swept and desolate; and chilly white
mists curl about them, with occasional bursts of pale sun.

Out of the mist there emerges suddenly an anti-aircraft section; then a
great Army Service dump; and presently we catch sight of a row of
hangars and the following notice, "Beware of aeroplanes ascending and
descending across roads." For a time the possibility of charging into a
biplane gives zest to our progress, as we fly along the road which cuts
the aerodrome; but, alack! there are none visible and we begin to drop